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Okay?

Is it okay?

I shake my head, trying to loosen the mental grip holding me hostage. I try to think what’s going to happen to Adira if she walks out of here.

She’s going to die horribly, a muted voice says within my head, sounding so extremely far away I almost don’t hear it. But then it comes through a bit louder. She’s going to die horribly.

I try to tug my arm away from the incubus, and suddenly, a voice screams loudly in my head.

It was my voice all along. She’s going to die horribly.

A surge of energy seems to coil deep in my gut at the same time the area where the white feather tattoo on my leg starts to tingle, then that tingle turns into a burn. It’s almost as if a rocket is getting ready to ignite. When I can’t hold onto the energy anymore, I release it. I can feel it explode outward from me, breaking the compulsion I was feeling and rendering me completely clearheaded once again.

It also does something to Adira, because I can see her starting to have a bit of lucidity in her eyes. She shakes her head, appearing confused.

Leaping to the advantage, I take her arm once again and pull her away from Wade. I give him a sheepish apology. “I’m really sorry, but we do have to get going. Our ride is out front waiting for us.”

Luckily, Adira doesn’t fight, following me willingly as we push our way through the crowd. I take a moment to look back. The incubus who had me has turned his attention to a woman who was sitting on the other side of Adira at the bar.

Christ, he’s probably going to kill her, but I don’t know how to save her and Adira at the same time. I suppose I could go back, see if I can muster that burst of energy to break the incubus’ compulsion, but then my gaze catches on Wade. He hasn’t moved on to another woman, but rather stands there watching us across the crowd with narrowed eyes filled with fury.

My choice has been made. I can’t risk Adira by going back to save that woman. Adira has to be my priority.

I drag her quickly out of the bar, urging her into a jog toward the side street I’d been lucky enough to find parallel parking on. It’s not until I have us in the car and across the Aurora Bridge that I start to feel safe again.

“That was really weird,” Adira mumbles as she slumps in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I think those beers may have gotten to you,” I suggest.

“I guess,” she replies with a sleepy yawn, then rolls her head my way with a smile. “Thanks for a great night, Finley.”

My smile back is forced. “It was awesome, wasn’t it?”

CHAPTER 8

Finley

Adira had fallen asleep only two miles from the house so she wasn’t hard to rouse, the crunching of gravel when I pulled into the driveway waking her up.

She rubbed at her eyes, yawning again. “My legs are going to be sore tomorrow from all that dancing. Bet yours are, too, since you don’t have time to work out anymore.”

If only Adira knew that my muscles have become more toned and lean since training with Titus. I could have probably danced all night and not felt a thing. But that’s just one of many things I can’t tell my friends, so I heartily agree. “You know it, girl.”

Adira comes into the house with me instead of straight to her room in the detached garage, wanting to grab a snack and a bottle of water. I join her, both munching on some Cheez-Its while we chat about the coffee shop. I’m fairly sure Adira’s not going to be a career barista. She has a college degree in English, and she’s enjoying the freelance editing work she’s doing. I suspect at some point she’ll move more into that type of career because she’s built for better things than coffee. It’s why I never considered moving her upward in management once I bought the shop.

After Adira yawns again, she bids me goodnight and heads out the side door off the kitchen to the detached garage. I spend a few minutes tidying up the kitchen, including wiping down the counters that didn’t get done after dinner tonight. I’m not sure where the breakdown in chain of command happened, but I cook, they clean. I don’t mind, however. For the most part, they keep this place spotless.

The garbage pickup is tomorrow and I usually wheel it out on my way to work, but sometimes I meet Mr. Pelman when doing so and I’d like to avoid that. He’s my dark daemon neighbor, which I figured out a few weeks ago after I’d learned what my abilities were and was practicing using said abilities. I even carried on a twenty-minute conversation with him one morning after I’d stripped away his veil to see his true self, and I didn’t so much as flinch. And that’s saying something because whatever types of dark and light fae he was produced from were on the ugly side of ugly. His aura was inky black and while I didn’t feel evil from him so much as prolific grumpiness, I still tried to avoid him at all costs.


Tags: Sawyer Bennett Chronicles of the Stone Veil Fantasy